


Advanced Studies in Wassailing

by T Verano (t_verano)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, Gen, SGA Secret Santa 2012, wassailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2020-04-06 13:39:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19063795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: Blair wants to take Jim wassailing.





	Advanced Studies in Wassailing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "wassail"

Jim could smell the heady mix of cider, brandy, citrus, and spices from the sidewalk. By the time he reached the third floor, his mouth was watering, and he was more than ready to sample Blair's latest delicious-smelling holiday offering.

Things seemed somewhat less promising when he opened the door. Blair was pouring the cider-spice whatever into several wide-mouth thermos jugs. A Tupperware container was sitting on the counter too, ready to be sealed, with toasted bread stacked inside it.

"Hey, you're home," Blair said cheerfully, "Wait, don't take your coat off. We're going wassailing."

Oh no, Jim wasn't. Blair had somehow finagled him into that _last year,_ and Jim considered it a duty done. For eternity.

"I don't do caroling. I thought we established that last Christmas. Just leave some of that stuff here, and I'll wassail by myself while you traipse around wassailing your heart out with whoever you've conned into singing 'Good King Wenceslaus' with you until everybody's ears bleed."

"Gee, thanks, Jim." Blair's offended expression was clearly for show, since he swapped it out immediately for one of pure enthusiasm. "This is different. This is with Sally and Jeff's trees."

Jim flinched involuntarily. "Excuse me?"

"We're going orchard-wassailing." Blair was all but bouncing on his toes.

"There is no 'we' here. Whatever the hell orchard-wassailing is."

"It's an old English custom; you take wassail out to the orchards and bless the trees for next year's crop, singing carols and toasting them with wassail. Sally and Jeff are trying to get a small orchard started, and I figured this couldn't hurt."

Only Sandburg.

Jim doubted a voice of reason would make any difference here, but all he could do was try. "Wrong part of Washington for apples, Sandburg."

"Actually, no. People can grow excellent apples here; it's just not as easy since we don't get a lot of sun."

That was as far as Jim's voice of reason extended; reason never worked with Blair anyway. He raised an eyebrow. "You're taking bread along — you planning on feeding the trees sandwiches?"

Blair rolled his eyes. "You toast the trees, Jim. Literally — you dunk the toast in the wassail, then you put the dunked toast up in the branches … Jim? Earth to Jim."

"I'm trying to decide whether to lock you up for public safety. Tree-hugging is bad enough without serenading them and force-feeding them bread."

"You don't have to sing. Just keep me company on the drive out to the orchard. You can stay in the car and drink wassail while the rest of us do our thing with the trees."

Blair looked hopeful and Jim sighed. Resistance was futile, at least when Blair looked like that. "I'm staying in the car," Jim said firmly. "And no Christmas carol crap on the radio. Santana all the way."

Blair beamed. "You won't regret it."

Not true. Jim already did.

Orchard-wassailing, for God's sake. He didn't even want to think about what Blair would find to wassail _next_ year.


End file.
